


You're My Bestest Bro, Dude - No Homo, Though, Right?

by taeharu



Category: Free!
Genre: Crack, Humor, I'm Sorry, M/M, NO HOMO IS STRONG IN HERE i mean it, god this dub is terrible but i had to write this, i totally wrote this based on the free! english dub, so it's so ooc i can't even lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeharu/pseuds/taeharu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru and Makoto are best bros since ever. And I'm sorry. This is truly awful and heavily based on the Free! Dub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Bestest Bro, Dude - No Homo, Though, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do this I'm sorry.  
> Please read my other fics, they don't suck.

Haru’s eyes snap open when he hears Makoto’s voice from outside the house.

“It’s me, dude. I’m coming in,” Makoto says as the door slides open; the door Haru learned to keep unlocked so his best bro could come and platonically get him out of the tub in which he currently resides, enjoying the bath time he has left – _miserable seconds_ – until the tall, broad (and definitely not gay for him) brunet softly knocks on the bathroom door. “You in here?” he asks, door already open.

Makoto walks towards him and stretches his arm, palm facing up in an offer for Haru to take it. Nevermind his possible nakedness, right? This is usual bro behavior.

“Is this where you sleep? Good morning, Haruk-“

“-I thought we agreed not to call me that,” Haru interrupts, glaring at this bestest bro. Of course he would glare at the mention of his full name. Surely, Makoto wouldn’t have any cute nicknames to call him in private, since they are just really good bros.

Makoto blinks and eventually cocks his head, smiling. “Sorry, Haru,” he says as the raven grasps his extended hand. “Habit.”

As his skin touches Makoto’s, Haru feels a rush of energy in his veins. He ignores it, though, the only thought in his mind being how inappropriate it is for him to feel like that. What is wrong with him? After many, many years of their friendship – _broship_ – why is touching Makoto suddenly something to make him feel excited, but also dirty and wrong?

Makoto pulls him out of the tub, eyes tracing down his body and stopping at the sight of his jammers. “Seriously?” he muses, maybe more to himself than to Haru.

“Is there a problem?” Haru asks, trying to control his heart, now beating erratically under Makoto’s gaze. He swallows, grateful that the brunet can’t see it.

“Nothing,” Makoto sighs, one of his backpack straps falling off his shoulders as he looks down. “Somebody didn’t get enough practice over winter break, huh?”

Haru, still trying to act casual, ignoring the tingling of his skin – right in the place where Makoto’s touched him, his warm presence still marking him – and not looking back, leaves the bathroom. He hears Makoto warning him about their limited time and something about them meeting their friends (who are not as much bros as they are, of course), but Haru decides to also ignore that as he ties his blue dolphin and very heterosexual apron around himself.

Makoto catches him and panics, “It’s a little cold out there for an apron!” he exclaims. Haru shrugs.

“I need to make my lunch, man. Give me a sec.”

He heads to the kitchen and gathers the ingredients to his usual breakfast as Makoto tags along, complaining about being late. He feels a few droplets falling from his hair to his body, his hair still soaked. Makoto seems to also notice that, seeing that he sighs and leaves the room, coming back with a dry towel and oh so friendly drying it for him, fingers massaging his scalp through the cotton material. Haru hums and sighs, eyes closing slightly as he leans in to the touch. It feels so good…

“Dude, what the hell?!” Makoto gasps suddenly, dropping his hands and making Haru’s eyes snap open for a second time that day. “Did you just moan, dude?”

“Are you crazy, man? Of course not, you douchebag.”

“You sure?” Makoto frowns and Haru swallows. He is not, in fact, sure. “Because I totally heard that, dude.”

“Maybe I did,” Haru scoffs, looking to his side. “What if I did? Felt good,” he pauses, then looks back to Makoto. “No homo, though.”

Makoto sighs, relieved. “Right. No homo,” he nods and goes back to drying Haru’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what to say. I'm so....... sad.


End file.
